Acoustic
by Kamaka
Summary: 5 years have passed since Elizabeth left Atlantis. The city is falling without Elizabeth until Ronon comes to her with a desperate plea for help.
1. Number 3

5 years.

5 years have passed since Dr. Elizabeth Weir's 'retirement'. 5 years since Earth became home again. Since Georgetown became her world and military affairs were traded for student affairs. The beautiful campus was pristine and, in a sense, welcoming. Everything was right—and wrong. From where she lived to how she lived. Her life was—for lack of a better word—nice.

Elizabeth hated it.

Not that she would admit it to her students, to her boss, to her neighbors. No, to them she smiled and went about her daily business. She had friends and co-workers, was admired by her students—everything she wanted before Atlantis. But now, now Elizabeth wished she could trade it for the high windows and arching doors of the city she left behind. She wanted to juggle military crisis's and negotiations, not term papers and finances. But this was her life now, Georgetown, an air Victorian home just off campus and Sedge and Sheppard. She took Sedge back from Simon almost the moment her send-off from SGC was finished. She hadn't meant to buy the second dog, but she had been walking Sedge when she stopped in front of a pet shop and refused to move. So she looked inside and saw the black puppy that didn't jump up and down when he saw her but looked at her carefully. The second Elizabeth held out her hand though, the puppy jumped up and down. Painfully reminded of someone she felt she abandoned, Elizabeth bought the puppy and named him Sheppard.

The two dogs were fast friends, old and new. And they went everywhere with her. Sometimes, when there was a particularly boring or sad lesson in her Political Science class, Sheppard and Sedge would come to class to lighten up the mood. The students loved them both, sometimes Elizabeth accused them of taking her class so they could play with the dogs. The students said that was only half the reason they took her class.

The sun played across her face as she made her way across campus towards her class. Red still dominated her wardrobe, this time a black pantsuit was capped with a red beret and coat. She doubted she would ever break the habit of wearing red. Arriving with almost thirty minuets to spare, she walked down the lecture-style hall to the podium and placed her briefcase down, before carefully hiding her coat and hat near the desk. Finding her notes for the class, Elizabeth placed them carefully on the podium and turned to the white-board behind her.

'Military vs. Civilian' was today's lecture. She hung her head, feeling the tug deep inside her. The marker became too heavy to hold and she let her hand drop down. Closing her eyes, she inhaled deeply and forced the sadness down. It would mean they won, if she cried, and she would not let that happen. Swiping at the few errant tears with the back of her free hand, she opened her eyes and lifted the marker, beginning to write again.

She heard someone shuffle in quietly and smiled. Probably an early student, she imagined she'd hear the pupil walk away in a moment. She turned her head and felt something cold take over her body, standing in her classroom looking more like he belonged than she thought possible was Ronon Dex.

Five years had changed him very little, there were a few new scars on his arms and a few fine lines around his eyes and mouth. His skin was still as tan as she remembered and he was still just as imposing. Dressed in dark jeans and a black t-shirt he stood tall and proud. Slung over one shoulder was a dark brown leather jacket, in his other hand was a black sling-style backpack. His dreadlocks were pulled back firmly. But when he met her gaze, he met it proudly. Several heartbeats passed before she found her voice.

"Ronon?" she asked, disbelieving.

"Dr. Weir," he stated simply dropping the backpack and jacket in a chair.

"What are you doing here?" she asked approaching him hesitantly, "my class—"

"We have important things to discuss," he cut her off.

"Ronon," she sighed, remembering just how frustrating dealing with the warrior could be, "Ronon I'm not associated with the Stargate program or Atlantis anymore," she continued, "you know that."

"I do," he said, "and I do not believe it."

"It's been five years since I set foot in Atlantis, I don't know how much clearer it could be," she said, exasperation creeping into her voice. She was not the perfect diplomat anymore, her poker face had been damaged, she had been damaged, "what could you have gotten security clearance to tell me?"

"I have no security clearance myself," Ronon said easily.

Giving him a less-than-pleased look, she tugged the zipper on the backpack down and pulled out a package wrapped in dark cloth. She raised her eyebrows and looked from him to the package. The cloth was silky and held in place by a dark silver tie. It seemed to be designed specifically for holding whatever was inside. Pulling back the tie, she unfolded the cloth and looked back up at him in confusion. In her hand she held a flat silver device, like a thin piece of slightly translucent metal. Attached to one edge was a stylus. She opened her mouth and closed it, looking at the device again. The metal was cold to the touch. She touched it lightly with her thumb. When she lifted her finger, an impression of her thumbprint was left on the metal. It faded away quickly, the device as smooth as a slate.

"What is this?" she asked finally.

"This is a Satedan data pad," he said, "capable of communications over long distances—even galaxy's."

"Ronon," Elizabeth said patiently folding the device up again, "I left the Atlantis expedition a long time ago. I am not associated with it in any way," she bit her lower lip slightly, "whatever problem you have, the military is in charge of it."

Ronon nodded and for a heartbeat, Elizabeth assumed that he was going to let it go, take the data pad back and leave so she could get on with her class. That was not happening, Ronon made no move to leave. In fact, if she didn't know better, Elizabeth would say he was laughing at her. Ronon sat back and crossed his feet on the chair in front of her. On the door of the lecture center was a piece of paper saying that class was canceled. He was taking no chance, some part of Elizabeth was coming back with him. He had to make this better—or at the very least worth the large amount of trouble was going to be in upon his return.

"Atlantis has been militarized," he said, the first hint of anger coming into his voice "in every sense of the word," he stood up abruptly, causing even Elizabeth to move backwards in surprise, "I stayed with the operation because I thought you people would make the galaxy better, not try to conquer it!"

Elizabeth's stunned mind refused to comprehend the words Ronon had just said. Every part of her screamed that she was an idiot to think that they would keep Atlantis a diplomatic operation. She had truly thought that when she left Atlantis would remain a diplomatic operation, one for exploration and peace. Disappointment surged through her at the thought of people like the Athosians who had helped them being ruthlessly conquered. Closing her eyes against the tears that had started, she ducked her head and tried to keep the image of Major Lorne standing by a group of slaves at bay. Seeing Elizabeth's reaction Ronon softened slightly and sat down in front of the woman he still considered his leader. Slowly, he extended a hand and laid it on top of her own.

"How bad?" she asked, her voice choked slightly.

"Bad," he said, not one to lie, "The Athosians have abandoned the city. The men have already conquered man worlds and are working on more."

"Teyla," Elizabeth sighed, "if we're treating the Athosians so badly—"

"Teyla's about to leave," Ronon said letting his hand drop, "Truthfully I don't know why she stayed as long as she did. But she's leaving now, I think she'll be gone by the time I return."

"What about John?" she asked, anger creeping into her voice, "why isn't he stopping this?"

"John is—" Ronon searched his vocabulary for a word to describe what John had become—or, rather, a word that would not get him smacked, "ah," he said finally, "John is—broken?" the word came out more as a question than a statement.

"Broken?" Elizabeth repeated, stunned.

"Yes—" Ronon paused, "John is broken. After you left, things became bad quickly. Teyla is about to leave, even Major Lorne has begun to vocally disagree. Rodney and Radek do not speak to anyone unless necessary—Rodney has left the team. Carson appears to be trying to transfer now as well."

"Who's in charge? Is it still Caldwell?" she asked, trying to change the topic, this one was far too painful.

"Yes," Ronon said, "but I do not think he is making the decisions," she opened her mouth so he continued, "Colonel Caldwell seems to think what we're doing is wrong. But he does it anyway. I can hear him argue sometimes, but no-one's in the room. Rodney thinks SGC has developed a long-range communications device that they use to speak to Colonel Caldwell. But he is not sure. Radek seems to believe the theory."

Elizabeth nodded, her mind reeling. If Caldwell was obeying orders he was against, then someone high up in SGC was pulling the strings and whoever that was had some plan. Elizabeth mentally cut herself off and sighed, she there was no scheme, it was probably instinct talking. Silently she re-wrapped the data pad and handed it over to Ronon before getting to her feet. Ronon's eyes narrowed but he said nothing. He picked up the data pad, walked down to the podium and placed it on it. He then turned and walked out, his footsteps echoing in the corridor. Elizabeth sighed and ran a hand through her hair. She turned and walked to the podium, picking up the data pad carefully. Pulling it open, she froze.

Sitting on top of the data pad was a picture.

She couldn't help but grin at the sight, though her eyes were rapidly filling with tears. They were all there, from the lowest maintenance person to John. Even Caldwell was in the picture. It hadn't been a special occasion or even the end of a mission. The Daedalus had been heading back to Earth and it would hit their home galaxy around the holidays. Someone thought to take a picture. Nothing that would give anything away, but something to let their families know they were safe. So they had crowded in the control room and angled it so the Gate was not in the picture. Then they had grinned and someone from the ship had taken the picture. Wiping her eyes she put the picture next to the data pad and gasped. Words were quickly forming along the surface.

_Dr. Weir,_

_  
Please, the city cannot survive like this and I fear soon we will have to pay with more than blood. I am asking you to help, not as a leader but as a friend. _

_Tap once for no_

_Twice for yes_

Elizabeth picked up the stylus with slightly shaking hands. At the top of the stairs, her students began to file into the classroom. Back home, Sedge and Sheppard were rolling around. The sun was shining, the sky was blue and a million miles away, John Sheppard was wondering how he had gotten into this mess. Gripping the stylus, Elizabeth tapped the device twice quickly before turning to her students. On the pad, her quick message to Ronon was fading off to his data pad.

As a friend 

_  
What can I do?_

A/N 

**Data Pad communications are in _Italics_**


	2. Walk Away

The second his feet touched the floor of Atlantis, a large part of Ronon wanted to be back with Dr. Weir—no Elizabeth, back where things made sense. That was not an option, for many reasons, but especially because a few feet away some very familiar belongings were being loaded into the back of a Puddle Jumper. Rodney was a few feet away, clenching and unclenching his fist, obviously trying to think of some way to stop what was going on.

Five years had given Rodney a few grey hairs that were almost invisible considering how short he wore it. Other than that and a few lines around the eyes, he looked the same. He wore his white lab coat, covered in some dark pink foreign substance that was also splattered on his face. His nose had the red marks from his goggles, meaning he had just come from the lab. He apparently didn't see Ronon yet, because his eyes were on the owner of the luggage.

She was there, naturally. Teyla Emmagen. Ronon felt his heart clench painfully, but forced it aside as he focused on getting his legs to work properly. Teyla's once caramel colored hair had been darkened and had also lengthened considerably. It was now held back by a sever braid that brushed her lower back. Her once Athosian garments had been replaced by hard dark blue military gear a month or so after Elizabeth left. Now she stood in the garb of her people. But instead of the warm browns and earthy tones, she wore dark well-worn leather garments reminiscent of armor. The hilt of a knife was sticking up from her mid-calf boot. He walked slowly towards her, his footsteps masked by the sounds of the Gate room. Her head half-turned as he stepped towards her. He caught a flash of her dark eyes, as hollow as ever, but she said nothing, turning back to the men.

Rodney on the other hand rushed over.

"Well?" he demanded. Ronon offered the data pad with her message as means of an explanation, "all right," he grinned, "maybe you're not as dumb as I thought."

"And you must be dumber," he said in a harsh whisper, "I thought you were going to stop her."

"I tried," Rodney hissed back looking at Teyla who gave no indication of listening, "I'm a genius, not a magician!" he sobered slightly, "didn't you say goodbye already?"

"Rodney," he growled in frustration, "keep it safe," he added. Rondey nodded and pulled the data pad into the folds of his coat.

Ronon walked past Teyla to where the last few packs were waiting. He picked them up and took them over to the Jumper, placing them with the others.

"What are you doing?" her sharp voice demanded.

"Coming with you," he countered.

"That is not necessary," she said striding over.

"I think it is," he said turning to face her. 

Their gazes caught for a moment and Ronon wished she'd hit him, anything to give her an excuse for him to make her stay. She inhaled sharply, her fists clenching. Exhaling, she forced her fingers apart. She gave a quick nod before going back to say her goodbyes. Ronon walked to the Jumper and placed the packs inside, along with the rest of the Athosian things that had been left behind. Wrapped in bright cloth was a large bundle. He peaked out to see if Teyla was coming. When he saw she was busy, he tugged at the edge of the bundle. Nestled inside were fighting sticks. 

Standing up he walked to the hatch and braced his arms against the frame. The longest goodbye, by far, was between Teyla and a radio version John Sheppard, who was currently off world. There was something between the two of the, something Ronon could not place but did not like. His arms protested how tightly his fingers were gripping the metal and he realized just how much he didn't like the connection between John and Teyla. Shaking his head, he released his fingers and stepped back inside the Jumper. He looked out and caught Rodney's eye.

"Do something!" Rodney mouthed. 

A few minuets later he was facing Teyla as the Puddle Jumper took off. Teyla had her arms crossed across her chest and was leaning back against the wall. It was just the two of them in the back of the Jumper, the other few had wisely decided to 'hang out' in the front with the pilot. Both had stretched out considerably, though Teyla took care not to touch Ronon and he took care to 'accidentally' touch her.

"Would you stop?" Teyla demanded, exasperated, after their knees touched for the tenth time.

"Why is our touching my fault?" Ronon asked lightly.

"Because it is," Teyla said hotly. Ronon nodded and silenced reigned for a moment, "why are you staring?"

"You are more interesting than the luggage," he replied simply leaning forward, "Elizabeth has agreed to help."

"What?" Teyla gasped, her eyes widening, "how?" she frowned, "and why?"

"Ronon!" Marcus Lorne's laughing voice echoed to them, "Caldwell says you have to stay in Atlantis for the next twelve hours upon your return unless you are needed. That's your punishment for disobeying an iron-clad rule, not to mention several laws on Earth."

"That is why," Ronon said leaning on his elbows, "she agreed to help us, she cannot be here but she can communicate with us at all times."

Teyla nodded and leaned against the wall, looking away. Ronon felt disappointment surge through him and something sharper as well. Closing his eyes briefly, he looked up and leaned back as well with an audible sigh. He laced his fingers over his stomach and studied Teyla, knowing that everything was fruitless from this point on. She would not be returning with him. The sharp feeling disappeared, replaced by emptiness. He ignored the feeling, pushing it aside.

The jumper ride passed in tense silence. Soon they arrived. Men came up, greeted Teyla and removed the luggage from inside the Jumper. The process took the longest five minuets of Ronon's life. Only when the Jumper was empty and she had said goodbye to the Marines did she turn to him.

"About what you said earlier," she said carefully, "I am glad Dr. Weir has decided to aid you, truly I am," she bit her lip, "but I am not part of Atlantis anymore," her voice wavered slightly, "there is no us, Ronon, I'm sorry" she smiled bitterly, "goodbye," she said extending a hand. 

He looked at it, disgust evident in his eyes. In that moment the anger vanished. He felt, for the first time in a long time, hollow. Like the world could see through him. He tried to push it aside but couldn't. He couldn't even tell why he felt the way he did, he certainly did not feel the emptiness when Elizabeth left. He gritted his teeth at how stupid he had become—how soft. He never should have trusted any of them, especially not her. Shaking his head, he turned and walked back to the Jumper.

"I'm sorry there ever was an us," he said, not stopping or turning around.

There was a time, not too long ago, when Teyla would have gone after him. But not now. She turned to greet her people now, she let him go without so much as an explanation. Walking to the last few packages waiting, she picked up the one with fighting sticks in it and pulled the corner open. There was a set for practice, a set for battle and a more formal set used for ceremonies and such. There was also a simple wooden one, taken as an afterthought. Teyla touched the top of the wood and closed her eyes, sighing deeply.

"I am not," she whispered to the wind before closing the fabric.

**  
88 On Earth 88**

**  
**  
"Ow!"

"Well Colonel if you had just stayed with the group this wouldn't have happened!"

"If you'd stop bending it, it wouldn't hurt!"

Dr. Malcolm Waters sighed and glared at his frustrating patient. Colonel John Sheppard glared right back. The Georgetown University Hospital was busy this time of day and checking up on his least favorite patient was not what Malcolm wanted to do at this point in time. Colonel Sheppard had been recommended to him by his old friend Dr. Carson Beckett, who explained that Colonel Sheppard had gone to help someone during some mission and gotten hurt by some animal. He had received a medical history filled with blacked-out dates. But, of course, he was dealing with a military man. When he met Colonel Sheppard he was more dead than alive, but he had worked with what he had and now the only indication that anything had happened to the man was the gruesome scar on his back and the brace around his knee.

"Colonel Sheppard," Malcolm said tensely, "I have been told I can't release you until you know how to walk."

"And?"

"If you can't bend your knee how the hell are you supposed to walk!" he demanded, patience failing.

"Aren't you supposed to tell me that?" John shot back hotly.

"If I were immortal maybe," Malcolm said, "Nurse please get physical therapy up here, Colonel Sheppard I have to go."

"Go?" John asked.

"Yes, go, I'm twenty minuets late as it is."

"Hot date?" John asked smirking.

"With a dog—two actually," he replied, "I promised a friend I would walk her dogs for her."

"Yes, wouldn't want you to disappoint the animals," John said easily.

"Maybe when you have something helpless depending on you, Colonel, you'll understand why disappointing them is not an option," he said pulling on his coat and leaving before John could protest.

Leaning back on the bed, he sighed and leaned his head against the pillows. He hated being on earth, he hated so much now that it shocked even him. Teyla and Elizabeth were both gone now. It seemed that all of Atlantis blamed him for their leader's departure in the first place. But it was not his fault, she left willingly, as she told the entire base. She left to 'pursue other projects'. And just like that she was gone. A ripple in the Stargate and it was like she had never been there at all. Two weeks later, Atlantis was militarized. He listened to their accusations, the silent glares until he couldn't take it anymore and relinquished all power he had, agreeing to stay on only to lead the team. Rodney wouldn't speak to him more than necessary, Teyla was leaving and Ronon was up to something—he just didn't know what. Even with all that, it had been almost four months and he wanted to get back to Atlantis.

He wanted to go home.


	3. Broken

The day was beautiful, a beautiful, sunny Saturday morning and John Sheppard was five minuets from killing someone. The physical therapist was, in his mind, worse than the Wraith. He had been stumbling around out here for the past forty-five minuets. His leg was in agony, but he forced himself to walk forward, thrilled to not be in hospital garments for once. Finally the physical therapist motioned for him to sit down, which he did willingly. Breathing in deeply, he hardly had time to catch his breath before he found himself being assaulted by something black and fuzzy.

"Sheppard no!" a very familiar voice yelled out.

'I'm losing it,' John thought.

But no sooner had the thought crossed his mind then she was there, pulling the dog off him. He stared, that was all he could do. She looked so familiar, so like he remembered. Her cheeks were colored, partly from the breeze blowing and partly from running to catch the errant dog. She was dressed in dark jeans and long-sleeved, low-necked green shirt that made her eyes look bigger. Her hair was still in curls, though they were caught in her scarf. 

A thousand questions raced through his mind. Did she still drink lots of coffee? Did her students respect her as much as they had? Was someone (aka a boyfriend or worse, a fiancé) waiting for her at home? Did she miss their late-night discussions as much as he did? Did she miss him at all?

"I'm so sorr—" the words died on her lips.

Much to his chagrin, he found it nearly impossible to swallow past the lump in his throat, speaking was not an option. That seemed to be fine with her, because her lips had parted in surprise and she was staring at him like she'd seen a ghost, which was very close to the case. The dog looked at her, before barking at his playmate. Their eyes were locked for the longest heartbeat of his life. Nothing mattered but her, and him. 

"John?" she said finally, almost inaudibly. 

The world had stopped when Sheppard had revealed, well, another Sheppard. John. The one person she had waited for five years to speak too—the one person she never wanted to see again. It was all so confusing that it stole her breath away. Or maybe, it was how he looked. Ronon hadn't been lying, John looked broken. There were fine lines around his eyes now, a faint scar traced his temple lightly. His hair was a messy as ever. But the worst was his eyes themselves. They had always been so expressive and so alive. Now they stared back at her. If the eyes were the windows to the soul, then he had no soul now. They looked at her, showing her indescribable sadness and pain.

"What are you doing here?" she asked finally, feeling stupid as soon as the words left her lips.

"Healing," he said looking down at his knee. The mess of half-healed skin was concealed beneath a good inch of bandages and a thick brace.

"What happened?" Elizabeth gasped, looking at the brace.

"A mission," he said tightly, "unexpected off-world activity."

"John—" she began.

"Sorry," he said pushing himself to his feet, "you don't have clearance, can't tell you anything," he gritted his teeth as pain shot through his leg and he eased himself back down again. How could he have been so stupid? How could they have sent him to Georgetown University Hospital? How could she be there? The two dogs, Dr. Waters—all the pieces were coming together too nicely for him. All the old hurt, pain and anger he thought he had been successful in burying.

"What about the other projects you left us for?" he asked, bitterness evident in his voice, "shouldn't you be getting back to those?"

Elizabeth felt like she had been smacked. For a moment she felt shocked. Then, angry, how dare he make her feel like she was the evil one. She was not the perfect diplomat anymore, and he was not the invincible warrior. If he was going to be awful, then she was going to be awful right back—no matter how childish it was.

"Yes," Elizabeth said, her face turning cold, "I guess I should. Come on Sheppard, lets go find Sedge."

Turning on her heel, she walked back to her other dog, swiping angrily at the one tear that had escaped. She would not cry anymore, especially not over John Sheppard. Unlike the last time, she did not look back at him, but kept walking. Behind her, John up at the sky, figuring if anyone asked he could blame the water in his eyes on the sun.

**88 Atlantis** **88**

Ronon Dex was not taking things well. In fact, Rodney would say he was taking things very badly. The hulking warrior had made a new sport in Atlantis: Marine beating. Major Lorne had expressly forbid his team to go anywhere near the warrior unless they were going off world together. All the other teams had been trying to enlist the warrior in their missions because he was taking out all the anger he would not admit out on anything with a pulse. Carson was about to set aside a section of his infirmary for the sprains and broken bones that seemed to be accumulating.

Right now, Ronon was taking out his fury out on an unfortunate punching bag. He wore no gloves, his fingers were stained with dark red from where blisters had formed and broken. But he would not stop, he could not stop. Sweat was pouring down his shoulder-blades but he kept pounding the bag. Finally, with a last kick, the bag snapped free of it's tie and dropped to the ground. Ronon pressed his hands on his knees, breathing hard.

"I thought I'd find you here."

Ronon looked up at the sound of Colonel Steven Caldwell's voice.

"I need to speak with you," Caldwell said, "come on."

Ronon frowned but did not feel up to protesting. He nodded and stood up, following the older man out of the room. Caldwell looked exactly the same, from the shaved head to the hard eyes. But he looked older, and upset. Ronon wiped the sweat form his eyes and fell into step with him, the cold air of Atlantis rapidly drying the sweat from his skin.

"Colonel Sheppard should be back within the month," he said casually.

"I know," Ronon replied.

"We've been, ah, picking up some strange readings on the mainland," Caldwell said turning to face Ronon.

Ronon stopped and looked at Caldwell, at a loss for words.

"SGC thinks it's nothing," Caldwell said, "I'm doing my best to convince them otherwise, but it may take a while," he added, turning to go, "oh and could you tell Major Lorne to watch the bottom of the Jumper when landing? Dr. McKay and Dr. Zelenka are both working on repairing it, it's in the Gate room, maybe you should show him—show his team while you're at it."

Ronon nodded and took off running.

"The bottom of the what!" he heard Rodney holler, "that's ridiculous!"

"No it's not," he said coming up, "get Major Lorne down here to look at the mess he made with his landing," he said, his voice low and urgent, "there's been some activity on the mainland—" he let out a frustrated sigh, "I think Teyla's in trouble."

"Oh no," Rodney breathed, then he tapped his ear, "Major Lorne could you please come down to the Gate room and explain to me why, exactly, you feel the need to destroy a Jumper. You know what, bring your team with you, they should see this too, learn from your mistakes—" Ronon gave him a look, "so just get down here!" he looked back up at Ronon, "how bad?"

"I don't know," Ronon growled in frustration, banging his hand against the Jumper.

"Oh no," Rodney gasped, "Radek, Cadman, would you two come down to the room as well. Cadman, get Carson as well, I have a cut on my hand that needs attending to."

"Alright what's going on?" Lorne demanded striding into the room, "my landing was fine!"

"Come here," Rodney said, "I'll want to show you something," he said tapping things on his laptop. Lorne craned his neck.

"This is a map of the mainland," Lorne said, "what's going on?"

"Teyla's in trouble," Rodney said, "or we think she is—"

Lorne motioned his team over and said something to them softly. They nodded quickly and walked inside the jumper. Lorne walked back to them.

"Same place as last time?" he asked.

"That's what we think," Rodney said, "right?" Ronon nodded.

"Okay," Lorne said and turned to two of his men, "you go to Cadman, you to Carson, brief them quietly on the situation and get them whatever they need. Make up any excuse you need."

The men left quickly. Rodney tapped furiously on his laptop. Carson came running towards them.

"Alright Rodney, lets see that hand of yours," he said. The two men hurried inside, each carrying two large bags.

Cadman appeared and nodded to both of them and ducked inside the Jumper. Radek hurried forward swearing hotly in Czech before storming inside the Jumper with steel case in hand.

"How bad is it?" he asked almost inaudibly.

"Bad," Rodney said, "we don't know for certain. We're assuming the worst."

"We can only get one Jumper?" he asked.

"Unfortunately, Teyla's a light packer," he sighed. Carson nodded, "do you have everything?"

"Hopefully," Carson said, "lets go quickly before it gets worse."

Inside the Jumper, Cadman was quickly undoing the cases she brought.

"Okay I have explosives, I have P-90s, stunners and handguns," she said pointing to the contents of the cases," she looked at the men who started forward, "got these for you," she added tossing Ronon a P-90 and his sword. His blaster was already at his hip, "Carson!"

The two men hurried inside. Lorne sealed the hatch and the Jumper took off in record time.

"We may actually have to talk about proper Jumper piloting!" Rodney yelled at Lorne as the Jumper shot up and out of the room a hell of a lot faster than Carson thought possible, pitching them all against the walls. Carson began pulling things out, transforming the back of the Jumper into a kind of mini-hospital. No-one spoke for the short journey. Then, the interior of the Jumper darkened considerably. Ronon eased his way forward, careful of the medical supplies set up. His eyes narrowed as he saw the lack of sun. Craning his neck, he looked up and felt his jaw drop. Blocking the sun was a group of ships, the kind none of them had ever seen before. Then, as suddenly as they were there, the ships were gone.

"Oh my God," Lorne gasped softly, "Carson! Get ready! Cadman, leave the explosives."

"What's going on?" Cadman demanded pushing forward, "what do you mean—oh on."

Below them, there was no village, there was the wreckage of one. Destroyed buildings burning fires—it was a wasteland rather than a place to live. Carson cranes his neck to see the damage and immediately set about changing the Jumper into something more suited to the task. Lorne found a clearing and set the Jumper down quickly. His team ran out and began to make sure the are was clean, but Ronon was already barreling ahead.

"Teyla!" he yelled, looking around furiously.

"Sir! They're all dead!" someone yelled.

Ronon sucked in smoke filled air and ran forward. He turned a few bodies over but they were all dead. Men had died trying to save each other, sacrificing themselves for the sake of their friends. A cold knot of fear formed in Ronon's stomach as he realized Teyla would do something like that. He ran on, looking for anyone who was alive. The shouts of Lorne's team were growing dimmer an dimmer until he could not hear them. He called out for her again but got no response. Running forward as fast as he could, he found the half-charred remains of a large house. The bodies were shot and burned here. He followed the trail to the foundation and froze.

A few men, not Athosians, were scattered but burned beyond recognition. And lying in the middle was, face down, was Teyla. Ronon ran over to where she was and turned her over. Blood was covering her, though whether it was her own or someone else's he wasn't sure. Deep cuts were visible under the gashes cut diagonally across her chest and her back was more raw meat than skin. But the most troublesome thing, at least to him, was the hole in her chest just below her heart. She coughed when he turned her over and groaned with the pain it caused.

"Teyla," he hissed, "Teyla!" he said sharply when he got no response, "Teyla!"

"Wha—" Teyla couldn't force the words out, "Ronon?" she whispered, her voice breaking.

"Come on," Ronon said sliding an arm under her and lifting her easily. He walked quickly, making sure not to jostle her.

"Ronon—oh my God—Teyla!" Rodney dropped his equipment and ran over.

"Go get Carson," Ronon said. Rodney nodded and ran off. He looked down a Teyla before quickly resuming his pace. He made it to the Jumper and hurried inside. There were five Athosians spread out in the makeshift hospital.

"Put her down, there," he said motioning to a free space. Lorne's tea was already there, "is that all of them?"

"Yes," one said, "life signs—there was nothing."

"Alright," Lorne said, "lets get back, maybe we can save them," he said spinning the Jumper around and gunning it. The Jumper shot forward and flew towards Atlantis. Carson hooked monitors up to the few surviving Athosians. Ronon sat near Teyla's head and did what Carson told him to.

"Who did this?" Ronon asked looking at Rodney.

Rodney rubbed a hand over his suspiciously red eyes and looked at Ronon.

"That's what I can't figure out," he said turning the fabric over, "I tore this off of someone but—but the signs don't match anything I know or—or—they're not from the Pegasus Galaxy!" he burst out suddenly.

Ronon knew the obvious conclusion, they all did. He knew it as Carson's medical team rushed the remaining Athosians to the Infirmary. He knew it as he waited for news of Teyla and the other's condition with what seemed like half of Atlantis. He knew it as Carson finally emerged and told them the Athosians would be fine, but Teyla was the worst off. He knew it as his body numbed, until, like his heart, it could feel nothing. He knew it as he watched her fight for her life, aided not by warriors but by machines.

He knew.

The ships were sent from the Milky Way Galaxy

_Earth did this._


	4. You're the Only One

John came to with a soft groan.

It had been another surgery, another step back in the long road to getting to Atlantis. He wasn't sore or in terrible pain, the drugs had numbed him and apparently it hadn't been a major surgery—in other words no ventilator. He just had a large amount of fresh bandages wrapped around his elevated knee. Pushing himself half-up on his forearm, he looked at the offending leg with a groan before easing himself back down onto the bed. He sighed and arched his neck, trying to get comfortable.

Then he saw her.

She was sitting by his bed, flipping through a binder full of papers. She snapped the binder closed before he could pretend to fall back asleep and looked at him. In the soft light he could see the differences in her, how her skin was tanner and her hair a little lighter from being exposed to the sun. She was also dressed down, in dark colored jeans and simple blue and white stripped t-shirt. She licked her lips and sighed, folding her hands neatly over the binder. He almost smiled, maybe the diplomat wasn't completely gone—though she did remind him more of a history teacher he had in high school.

"I know you want me to go, but I'm asking you to hear me out first."

"Why should I?" John asked, though it sounded half hearted, even to him.

"Because you need to hear the truth," she said.

He sighed, half of him not wanting to know. The rest of him was screaming to hear the truth. Maybe it would explain why. Why she looked so sad, why he could never accept that she had left—why the infamous Simon was absent, why she named her dog after him. Before he could think about what knowing the truth would mean, he had nodded. She took a deep breath and he could see that her hands were shaking.

"I was told to leave!" she burst out suddenly, surprising them both, "I got the notice from them and I fought it as hard as I could but they gave me a date to be out by. I thought, maybe, if Atlantis felt I'd abandoned them it would be better," Jon laughed bitterly, "I know, silly right? But I thought that if the people hated me, they would accept a new leader."

"You should've told me," John said when she finished, "God Elizabeth, I spent the last five years trying to figure out why. We would have fought it—everyone would have!"

"It wouldn't have done any good," Elizabeth said looking away, "the order came from the president himself. That's why I thought if I closed the door on everything it would be better."

"Is it?" he asked.

"You tell me," she whispered, not trusting her voice.

He shook his head and reached forward, his fingertips hesitantly brushing her face. She sucked in her breath as his fingertips brushed her cheek. But instead of breathing out, it came out as a sob. John pulled her to him. She knew she should pull away but with her face pressed into his shoulder, all the memories came rushing back. She closed her eyes tightly and buried her face in the crook of his neck. She didn't even make the decision to let the tears flow they just came rushing out. John tightened his grip on her as he felt her shoulders shake with sobs. How many times had he thought about dialing the gate and demanding an explanation—but he had felt betrayed if she didn't want to be with him then he didn't want to be with her. End of story. Of course, the fact his own eyes were stinging with tears kind of killed that theory.

"I missed you," he whispered roughly, "so much."

He didn't know how long he held her or how long they both cried, but time seemed not to matter. Even the nurses left them alone. After her tears subsided they held onto each other. Eventually they pulled apart. Elizabeth wiped her cheeks with a slightly embarrassed smile. Their eyes caught and before either realized it they were laughing. There were no more tears to cry ad no more sadness to harbor. There was, however, one more confession to make. No words were needed, she just had to take out the data pad and place it on the bed.

"So that's what he did," he said.

"What?" Elizabeth asked, completely surprised.

"Ronon and Rodney were talking—not arguing. It was really weird, but then Ronon was gone."

"He came to see me," she explained.

John nodded and stifled a yawn, his body reminding him that he had just gotten out of surgery. Elizabeth stifled a laugh and John tried to shoot her a dirty look, but only managed to yawn again. Elizabeth sighed and shook her head.

"Get some sleep," she said.

"First," he said, "you've got to do something for me."

"What's that?" Elizabeth asked

"Over there, top drawer under the t-shirts," he directed her. She walked over to the drawers and followed his directions. Below the t-shirts she found a black case. She pulled it out and shot him a questioning look but he just motioned for her to open it. Inside was a flat paneled laptop computer.

"There's your homework," John said closing his eyes, "Ronon's been referencing old mission reports too often and Caldwell's getting suspicious."

"Thank you," Elizabeth said coming back to the bed, "get some sleep okay?"

He nodded and drifted off. She smiled and shook her head, reaching up to brush his hair off his forehead. In his sleep he turned his face into her hand with a slight sigh. On the bed, the data pad flashed. She picked it up and tapped it. Rodney's handwriting formed across the screen faster than Elizabeth could read it. When she did, she sat down hard, gripping the data pad. It was hard to breath past the lump in her throat. She pressed a hand to her mouth and closed her eyes, forcing air into her lungs. Swiping at her eyes, she laid the data pad down and picked up the tablet laptop, scrolling through the urgent mission reports, looking for something to confirm what was on the data pad—looking for a mission report. There was just one problem.

There was none.

**88 Atlantis 88**

An entire race had been reduced to a handful of survivors.

"You give that back!" one of the children yelled.

Well about fifty of them. After their Jumper landed, Caldwell told them he said one Jumper, not five. As soon as they had been told of the Jumper's departure, teams had been organized. Lorne's team had been split up into the leaders and almost forty more Athosians had been found. Of course now half of Atlantis was grounded, confined or otherwise being punished, everyone from Major Lorne who was currently serving as 2IC to half the maintenance staff who had turned a bunch of rooms in Atlantis to homes for the Athosians and almost doubled the size of the infirmary. Carson had escaped punishment mostly because he was needed to check-up the people. Ronon had escaped most punishment too because he refused to leave Teyla and the Marines still wouldn't touch him.

She dropped, bringing the swords around. With very little resistance, they tore through flesh and bone, arcing outwards and coming around to bite into the next victim. There was a time, she was sure of it, when she would have stopped. She would have reasoned with them and herself. She would have cared about who she was killing. Now it didn't matter, the burning in her arms mattered. The screams of names she'd never know, that mattered. Her pulse mattered. Not these nameless men, not the people trying to kill her.

All too soon it was over, though all of her screamed for more blood. She stood, chest heaving, the only thing standing amongst the mixture of stone and body. Funny, she didn't remember an explosion. She turned around to face the battle. Her chest burned and she dully realized that the burning was too fierce to be only her lungs. She looked down and froze. The swords dropped from her hands as she looked at the deep gashes on her chest. Her blood, her people's blood, her enemy's blood—it all mixed together. She lifted her hands, soaked in blood, and wondered if she could ever be forgiven. She realized she never would.

She was so numb she didn't even realize she'd been shot until her legs gave out. Choking on blood, she looked over at her people, dying now because of her. She wanted to tell them to run, to get to anywhere but there. She wanted so much, but it could never be. With a sob, Teyla Emmagen closed her eyes and knew no more.

The smell of burning flesh was the last thing Teyla was aware of before falling into darkness. Rough fingers rubbing the back of her hand impossibly softly was what woke her up. Then the events came rushing back to her. Her people were gone, because of her weakness and her stupidity. It was all her fault, because of her pride. She gripped the hand like a lifeline and heard a relieved voice call for Cason. She fought to open her eyes and succeeded. White was all around her, but then the light ebbed away slowly and her vision cleared.

She was lying in a hospital bed, in Atlantis.

She was alive.

She bolted.

Carson had barely come into the room before Teyla ran out of it. He opened his mouth in shock. She was supposed to be healing—not to mention the good chance she was paralyzed. He looked helplessly to where Ronon had been and was not surprised to find him gone. He threw up his hands and grabbed his earpiece. He was going to need some serious help for this.

Teyla tore out of the room and ran down the hallway, into her old rooms and pulling out the middle crystal before leaning against the door breathing hard. The adrenaline drained out of her and she leaned against the door, lifting her head up. She felt sore and weak, her legs more like lead than limbs. Carefully she walked over to the windows. It was dark out and her reflection was clear. She gasped at the sight. From the waist down she was in scrubs. Upwards, she looked more like a mummy than human. Her long, dark braid was gone, now her hair was lighter and just barely brushed her shoulders. She blinked in surprise and reached up, touching it lightly. She shook her head with a sigh. After all that had happened, the thing that made her stop was her hair.

Laying a palm against the cold glass, she looked at the reflection and spun around, instantly regretting it was the world spun with her. Ronon darted forward and caught her easily as her legs gave way.

"No!" she gasped, "let me go—"

"No," he growled shifting so they were both on their knees. He grabbed her shoulders, "I am not letting you go."

"No—" she began to protest, "it's my—"

"It's not your fault!" he interjected angrily, "it's their fault—the people who did this. You did everything you cou--"

"No I didn't!" Teyla yelled, "I should have made them run! I should have saved them! They looked to me for leadership and I—"

"You think you let them down," he finished, "you think you should have saved them, you think you could have saved them. But you couldn't have! It took me five years to accept that—but you don't have that luxury. You can't fall to pieces."

"Why! Because I'm supposed to be the strong warrior?"

"Because there are seventy Athosians in this city right now and they need you," he said.

She looked away, ashamed of the burning in her eyes. With the same impossibly light touch, he turned her face to his. She slowly tried to get to her feet. He gripped her elbows and helped her up. He bent down and picked her up, carrying her down the hall to where the Athosians were staying. He put her down a few feet from the door. She walked forward and pulled it open.

"Teyla! You're alive, thank God," one of the women whispered coming over, "we thought you were dead."

"Far from it, Doran" she said, "how is—"

"Everyone's fine," she soothed, "the Atlanteans have been more than kind," she said, "but—Teyla you are injured—should you be up?" Teyla gave her a look and Doran smiled, "come, see what the Atlanteans have done."

Teyla walked with her careful of her wounds. Doran pointed out all the new features of their homes.

"Ronon Dex has been here a few times," Doran said after a moment, "but you know, he has hardly left your side. I hear half the infirmary won't speak to him after the racket he and Dr. McKay have been making in there."

"Really?" Teyla asked looking at Ronon who was speaking to one of the Athosian men. She pressed a hand to her forehead, "Doran I apologize but I think perhaps I was too eager to leave the infirmary."

"Oh of course," Doran turned around, but Ronon was already there.

Teyla was past the point of pride and leaned against him gratefully. He pressed a hand to her cheek before bending down and picking her up easily. Some of the younger Athosians giggled but most of the older ones nodded approvingly as the hulking warrior carried their leader off to the infirmary. Teyla sighed her thanks to the warrior before closing her eyes. Ronon walked back into the infirmary and laid her on the bed, sitting on the chair next to her, his hand covering hers.

"Ronon!" Rodney came running in.

"No! Rodney no! She needs her rest!"

"Save it!" he yelled running into the infirmary with his data pad, "Ronon Lizabeth's coming back!"


	5. Otherside

"Ah!"

Teyla pressed her bare foot to the marine's neck, her hands beside her. He lay flat on his back, his eyes looked up at her. Teyla could see the darkness inside her, she wanted to kill the marine and everyone in Atlantis. She wanted their blood, she wanted vengeance. She didn't even realize she was killing the marine until his nails drew blood from her ankle. Even so, it took tangible effort on her part to pull her foot back. She stepped back, not even breathing hard and let him get to his feet. He flew out of the room as if he had been burned. Teyla bent down and grabbed the water bottle by her foot. She took a swig and placed it down, straitening up.

"Whose next?" she asked.

He was pushed forward by his friends. She didn't even wait for the match to start before she had him on the ground, arms twisted behind his back with her own cutting the air from him. He twisted out of her grasp but she had a new hold just as quickly, one that brought tears to the man's eyes. She kicked his legs out from under him and had him on the ground in a blink of the eye. This time, she cut off his air until he sagged in her arms and Lorne yanked her off.

Someone was calling her from a great distance. Her name sounded unfamiliar, like an echo. She flipped Lorne over her hip and spun around, the anger flowing through her. She slammed Lorne's head into the ground and turned around, her hand streaking out to land palm open on the person's chest.

As if she were going to feed.

As if she were a Wraith.

The marine paled considerably and looked down at her hand. Teyla didn't, she looked at the man's face and stepped forward, until their noses were almost touching. She looked over at her hand and back at the man, her lips curving up into something similar to a grin, but without any of the joy. Her lips parted slightly before she looked at her hand again and stepped even closer.

"Teyla! Teyla no!" Lorne shoved himself up and broke her hold, spinning her around and pinning her to the ground, "Teyla what's going on?"

Behind the one-way glass of the window, Dr. Kate Heightmeyer sighed and looked at Ronon Dex. The ex-Runner had tale-tell signs of exhaustion and his wounds were not healing as well as they should be. Teyla, on the other hand, was almost fully healed and she had woken up a few days ago. Kate thought she knew what was going on, but also knew telling him would be hard.

"Ronon," she said carefully, "I'm not sure, exactly, how to explain this. It's just a suspicion but I believe you have had the same ideas."

"It's not happening," he said crossing his arms.

"Ronon," she sighed, "you need to face that possibility."

"I do not," he replied, "because it's not a possibility."

"Yes," she said sharply, "it is. Ronon, Teyla is part Wraith. Embracing her Wraith side may be her way of dealing with this event," she said, "Teyla was having nightmares a while back, a side effect of her being able to connect with the Wraith. I suspected that it may have been a bleed-through, from a greater latent ability that was blocked. I think it may have been unblocked now and if I'm right then Teyla can connect to the Wraith and worse…"

Ronon looked through the glass.

"They can connect through her."

**88 Earth 88**

"You've got to be joking."

That was the only thing John could say when Elizabeth Weir stepped through his office, not as Dr. Weir their intrepid leader, but as Petty Officer Weir. She was dressed in a naval uniform, her dark curls pulled back. She blushed furiously and looked down before looking up again. John could only grin widely and try to convince himself that he preferred her with the uniform on.

"When did this happen?" he asked.

"I had to pay for college somehow," she said toying with the hat, "please don't be upset, I never told anyone," she added coming over.

"I can't believe it," he said laying down the shirts he was piling into his bag, "when you said you had a plan to get back to Atlantis, this was the last thing I was expecting."

"Yeah, tell me about it," she said motioning to the uniform, "I was surprised it still fit."

"Looks good," he said turning back to the t-shirts.

"I should—go—so, tomorrow then?" she said.

"Right, ah, tomorrow," he said licking his lips unconsciously, "I'll, ah, see you then."

"Right," she said turning to go, "see you then."

**88 Atlantis 88**

The night air was cool, even to Teyla, but it was irrelevant. The coolness dried the sweat on her skin. She closed her eyes and breathed in the air. Mentally she tried to find the peace that used to come so easily and couldn't. She opened her eyes. She couldn't find peace, she couldn't even cry for the people she had lost. All she could do was fight, fight an enemy she didn't even know. She felt, rather than heard, Ronon come up and stand beside her. He rested his forearms on the railing around the balcony and looked out at the sea.

"Teyla," Ronon said after a minuet.

"Did Dr. Heighmeyer put you up to this?" she asked looking at him, "because I do not need a lecture, not now and not from you."

He reached out and grabbed her arm before she could move away. She looked at him and broke his hold, but he replaced it with another before she had a chance to fight back. She sucked in her breath and attacked, grabbing his wounded arm and pulling him to the ground. He kicked her legs out and she went down, the next instant she found herself against the wall, one hand around her throat.

"What now?" she asked, breathing hard, "are you going to strangle me, like a Wraith!"

"Not unless I need too," he said breathing equally hard, "do I?"

"What is that supposed to mean?" she demanded.

"You tried to feed on a marine today," he said tightly.

"I fought him, you fight them all the time," she said.

"I don't end up with my hand on their chest," he said growling.

"You knew I was part Wraith for a long time," she said shoving him away and walking towards the railing, "it never bothered you before."

"You never tried to feed on anyone before," he shot back.

"So that's it? I make one mistake and suddenly I deserve to be hunted down like an animal!" she yelled turning around, "I am part Wraith!"

"No you aren't!" Ronon shouted suddenly. They were silent for a moment, both breathing hard, "this isn't about that. This is about you. You are not an animal, animals care about their families. You've become something else entirely. When was the last time you stopped? Have you slept since it happened? Have you?"

"No," she said gritting her teeth, "and that's none of your business."

"Yes it is," he said coming over to her, "We're all worried about you."

"And so they send you," she said sarcastically, "the great Ronon Dex who didn't speak to another living person for seven years, who managed to get captured during his planet's culling, what a shining example of a grief counselor. You know what, you can lecture me on leadership when you can visit a village without getting everyone killed!"

He didn't even know he hit her until her head snapped to the side and the imprint of his hand formed on her cheek. Her head stayed turned away, then the rest of her body followed and he found himself alone on the balcony. He sucked in air through his lunges and grabbed the rail of the balcony like a lifeline, his fingers digging into the rough surface. He bowed his head before looking up at the moon. Turning around, he looked at the closed doors before turning back to the sea and ignoring the voices inside that screamed for him to go after her.

**88 En Route to Atlantis 88**

John Sheppard eased his leg out carefully on the narrow bed in the Daedalus with a hiss of pain. He could walk with barely a limp and run almost as fast as he used to be able too, he had bounced back from much worse. But by his internal clock it was almost three o'clock in the morning and the pain in his leg had acted up strongly. He sighed and passed a hand over his face. Getting to his feet, he threw on a t-shirt and pajama pants before ignoring the cane and heading down to the mess hall to find water with which to take his pills.

He was half-surprised to find her there. She was sitting at a table, hands wrapped around a cup of coffee with her eyes unfocused. He doubted she even heard him come in. She had let her guard down and he realized he never pegged her for one to wear cotton pajama pants and a tank-top to bed. Her curls were in disarray and there were smudges under her eyes. She took another sip of the coffee and resumed her study of the wall. He ducked down and got a bottle of water before heading to go.

"Did you ever think about what would have happened if I hadn't left?" she asked, her voice hoarse from un-use.

He felt the fear form in his heart and flow outwards quickly, until his entire body was pounding with it. He took a deep breath and turned around, limping back over to her table and sitting down, realizing this would probably take longer than his leg could stand. He sat down carefully and looked at his hands before looking back up at her. She was still looking away and he knew this was not going to be easy, but it had to be said and figured out before they got back to Atlantis.

"Every day," he said slowly.

"Me too," she sighed, "I keep wondering about all those little what ifs?" she shook her head, "five years and I'm still wondering."

"I know," he said looking up at her. She turned her head and met his eyes, "I thought about it—I still do. I mean, I care about you, I always have and I always will but I spent five years thinking you'd abandoned everyone. I know it was wrong but I can't just make it go away."

"I know," she said looking down, "I spent five years waiting for you to come into the room," she shook her head with a smile, "I thought one day I'd be teaching and I'd look up and there you'd be. I thought you'd be angry and demand an explanation but I could make you understand and well, it would be like it was," she looked down, "silly right?"

"No," he said looking up, "of course not. The thought crossed my mind. Of course, I thought I would come down to your classroom and—" he cleared his throat, "well I wasn't angry."

"Why didn't you?' she asked looking up.

"Why didn't you tell me the truth?" he replied

"You know why," she said and nodded, "that answers my question. I'm sorry to bring it up, I just want to get everything settled before we get back to Atlantis. I'm glad you trusted me enough to let me do this," she said, "it's late, I should go. You need sleep too," she said standing up.

"Right," John said nodding, "so we're okay then? Still friends?"

"Always friends," she said smiling. He smiled too, though neither of their smiles reached their eyes, "see you tomorrow."

"Yeah," she said, "see you."

Then John found himself in the mess hall alone, staring off into space. He realized that he probably knew what Elizabeth was thinking about, staring off into space. He licked his lips and ran a hand through his hair, wondering if this was still a good idea. He didn't notice his free hand had edged over to where hers had been. It didn't matter. Mentally he was a million miles away back on Atlantis with Elizabeth.

Back eight years ago.

When he first realized he was in love with Elizabeth Weir.

And she was in love with him.

**A/N**

**See what happens when you review? **

**ReviewsNew Chapter**

**You see where I'm going with this? Follow! **

**(please follow, I love reviews, I'll admit it freely.)**

**But you'll get a new chapter regardless**

**(because I love writing even more)**


	6. Where are you Going

1Teyla's head flew up as Ronon came inside, the Athosian guards stepping aside quickly to let him pass. Of all the people she expected to come barging in, Ronon was very low on the list. She uncrossed her legs and stood up smoothly, refusing to show any weakness or anger, though her cheek throbbed immediately. They had not seen each other since she had insulted him and he had smacked her. Teyla was in no rush to make amends with the warrior. She had only three words to say to Ronon Dex. So, she placed her hands on her hips, squared her shoulders and looked him strait in the eye.

"Get out now," she said.

"No."

She half expected the reply and bit the inside of lip. She frowned and looked down, realizing that the familiar anger was not there—or, at least, not as strong as before. There was something else. Her head flew up as she realized there was a bit of fear in her. She was afraid of Ronon. She touched her cheek and looked at her hand, she had been hit before but had never felt afraid. Puzzled by the turn of events but not wanting to give him any satisfaction, she brushed the fear aside and missed the concern in his gaze. She forced her hand down and met his eyes again.

"I said get out. These are my rooms and you are not welcome," she said planting her feet.

"Not until we talk," he said. She looked at him expectantly, but he said nothing.

"Well?" she prodded, allowing her annoyance to show.

"I have hated the Wraith all my life, and I have hunted them down like the monsters they are. I have drawn a clear line between what is good and what is evil where they are concerned. If it were anyone else, they would be sleeping in the morgue right now. But I have staked the safety of people I have sworn to protect, people I have come to care about on the idea that you are still a whole person," he gave her a hard look, "am I wrong?"

Teyla opened her mouth, before closing it. She opened it again, before closing it once more, unsure how to reply. She swallowed hard and looked away, running a hand over her mouth. What was awful, truthfully, was that she couldn't answer him. She couldn't tell him to kill her and end her pain, she couldn't tell him to get the hell out, she couldn't say yes and fight him. So, she turned her face to his and met his gaze squarely.

"I don't know," she said finally.

He sucked in air and nodded.

"When you do, let me know," he said walking out.

She turned away from the door and gripped the bureau, burying her fingers in the dark wood. Ronon's words cut far more deeply than she could admit, even to herself. She shook her head at her weakness for letting the Runner affect her like this. Pushing herself away from the room, she called for the Athosian Guards and made quick work of them before storming off with no particular path in mind. She was more than angry, she was livid. How dare a pathetic human speak to her like that!

Teyla froze as soon as the thought left her mind. She felt sick at the thought, she had just called someone a pathetic human! Though she didn't know it, Ronon had been tailing her since he heard the crash in her room. He had stayed far enough behind so she couldn't sense him, but close enough so he could get to her if he had to. So, when he saw her stop, he edged closer. When he saw her fists unclench and one fly to her throat, he was beside her. When she paled and looked around, completely lost, he laid a hand on her shoulder.

"No!" Teyla yelled.

She jumped away like she had been burned as soon as someone touched her. Ronon lowered his hand but stayed close by. Teyla looked very disoriented and confused. She looked at him as if she didn't recognize him and continued walking down the hallway. She seemed to be counting her steps, because her lips moved softly with every step she took and her fingers danced along an invisible keyboard. Each step was carefully took, as if she were being told to step in a certain place. She led Ronon down into a deep part of Atlantis that he had never been in before. Stepping forward, she raised a hand and pressed it against the wall. Out flipped a key pad, where an Ancient would place their hand. She held her hand over it and turned back to him.

"Rodney," Ronon said into his earpiece, "can you come here quickly. I think Teyla may have found something."

**88**

The entire science department had moved down to the room that Teyla had found. Machines were buzzing and scientists were calculating. Carson had gotten a flicker out of the panel but nothing else. It seemed that John Sheppard would have to come and save them all again. Teyla still hadn't said two words and it was starting to concern Ronon. She had been standing there, staring at the panel as if willing it to move. One of the scientists had ushered her away when none of the marines would go near her. Now she was sitting in a corner, looking like a child with her knees pressed against her chest. Ronon excused himself from where Rodney was arguing and headed over to Teyla.

"Teyla?" he questioned softly.

She said nothing, simply continued to stare ahead at the scientists. Ronon hesitated, unsure how to deal with the turn of events. He didn't have to think for long because Teyla inhaled sharply and looked around as if seeing the room for the first time. She unwound herself and got to her feet, one hand still firmly gripping the seat she had just left. Her eyes slid in and out of focus and her knees buckled suddenly, sending her to the ground. She closed her eyes tightly and tried not to be sick. Ronon sprung into action and picked Teyla up, carrying her out of there and up into the main part of the city where he brought her outside to a balcony. He lowered her to the ground. Rodney had followed them and ran out into the balcony.

"Kate says this may happen," he told them, "it's a reaction to your abilities."

"My what?" Teyla demanded tightly.

"Your ability—you don't know?" Rodney demanded, "Teyla—"

"Dr. Heightmeyer thinks that this may be a reaction to your people and your ability to connect with the Wraith may have strengthened," Ronon explained.

"Are you sure?" Teyla questioned, the first hints of fear creeping into her voice.

"That's the only explanation we've got right now," Rodney said, "because you only come out of your room to attack us which by the way is going to give me a very nice scar on my arm—I had to get stitches! And furthermore—"

"Rodney!" Ronon said sharply, silencing the man, "go find Carson."

"Headsets?" Rodney began and then realized what Ronon meant.

He nodded for once and hurried off. Teyla's breathing had quieted considerably and she was sitting nearby, her hand cradled against her chest. Ronon carefully edged over to her and looked at her eyes for conformation. She nodded and extended her hand. He turned it over and saw the deep cut on it. He got up and found the first aid kit just inside the balcony. Returning he took her hand again and wiped the blood off the cut. Given her recent miraculous recoveries, he was surprised to see the cut was still there. Pressing one of the white bandages over the cut, he waited for the blood to stop flowing despite Teyla's hiss of pain.

"Sorry," he apologized.

"No," she said wearily, "I should be apologizing. About what I said—about you—I did not mean it."

"Its fine," he said winding gauze around her hand, "I was no better," he tied off the gauze but didn't release her hand, "about what I said, on the island, I spoke out of anger."

She didn't realize what he meant, until her mind flashed back to their angry exchange. It felt to her like it had taken place a lifetime ago. She nodded slowly and looked at their joined hands. Predictably, Rodney and Carson appeared just then, arguing. Carson kneeled by Teyla and examined her hand and told her she'd probably need stitches. He also quietly suggested that she see Dr. Heightmeyer.

"Thank you," she said, "but I am not crazy," her head flew up, "I do, however, know what that room is."

She pushed herself to her feet and ran down the stairs, past the scientists and flipped open the panel. She reached past the ID pad and into the back of the chamber where it was. She flipped something inside and tugged forward. An entire section of the wall flipped down to reveal a tunnel of some sort. She withdrew her arm and leaned against the wall, surveying the scientists with their jaws on the floor. Lorne walked forward with a flashlight and a P-90. He walked forward and disappeared into the darkness. After a few minuets the tunnel burst into light.

"You guys might want to come and see this," he said, his voice un-naturally high.

**88**

"How the hell could we not know about this!" Caldwell demanded.

"It's underneath the whole city, it's an inactive part, there's no way we could have known," Rodney argued.

A group of them were standing in the center of a giant underground warehouse. There was no floor, just the water around Atlantis. The walls reached down far, somehow the water didn't come up past the edge of the wall, which was good considering there was no guarantee the ships were amphibious. The tunnel led to the first balcony, stairs led to the next one. That was connected by walkways to the next few balconies. Suspended from the ceiling there were about five of the balconies and roughly twenty of the ships, about four ships for every balcony.

The ships were a different matter. They were dark and inert, almost like sleeping giants. Compared to Atlantis itself, the ships were not that big. They were stacked vertically on the wall, lying on their sides with the undersides facing the balconies. No-one had gone inside ships yet, but it seemed that they were life-supporting crafts. They also seemed to be able to be piloted with a few people but hold over a hundred—though it would be a very tight fit. No-one knew how the ships had gotten there, they seemed to be a few different models and most definitely not all Ancient built. The other big enigma was how Teyla knew where the room was, and how she could open it.

It fell to Ronon to find that out.

He was standing on the farthest balcony with Teyla in front of him. Teyla had walked over to the railing and reached under it, tugging on something. Out of the railing, a computer screen had flipped forward and a keyboard of some kind pushed out of the railing. She touched the screen carefully and the lights around the ship blinked suddenly. The topmost ship flipped outwards and was pushed to the side. Wings flipped out of the sides, pushing the engines out as well. A doorway opened in the hull just above the wing closest to them.

**88 En Route to Atlantis 88**

The trip to Atlantis, after that fateful meeting, was rather uneventful—outside the ship. That was good considering how things were going inside the ship. The passengers were more than a little confused as to why Elizabeth was there, and more importantly, why she was there as a low ranking Naval officer rather than their intrepid leader. Elizabeth was good at being a leader and very good at being strong. She was not, however, very good at shooting things, which is why John Sheppard found himself at the shooting range with Elizabeth. Earth time, it was close to five in the morning, time was irrelevant in space, all that mattered was if you could keep your eyes open or not.

"Keep both eyes on the target," he coached, "arms strong—" the bullet slammed into the side of the target, "better, it would be a killing shot, but we're aiming for the center."

"I know," Elizabeth said with a frustrated sigh.

"Okay, okay," John said easily, "here, I've got an idea. Let me help you."

He came up behind her and guided her arms with his own, adjusting her foot stance and grip. Titling her head, he had her look directly at the target. They were so close, he could feel his heart hammering in his chest and tried to ignore it. He focused instead on making sure Elizabeth's shot was set up.

"So, your stance is strong, your arms are bent," he said, "one hand's there, the other's on the trigger. Now, keep your eyes on the target—don't look at the gun, just at the target raise the gun and keep your eyes there—don't close one, you're not in the movies. Wait for the shot, no-ones shooting you so you have the time to do it. When your ready, take a deep breath and pull the trigger."

With a crack, the bullet sailed through the center of the target. Elizabeth laughed and clapped a hand over her mouth to muffle the sound. John couldn't help but laugh with her.

"I haven't done that since I was eighteen," she admitted.

"Good shot," he said, "now, try it alone."

She nodded and he stepped back. Following his steps, she raised the gun and fired, the bullet slamming neatly through the previous hole. After a few more shots, Elizabeth laid down the weapon after a few more shots and withdrew her hand slowly. John frowned and looked at her. She was not looking at him, but from the gun to the target.

"Liz? Are you okay?" he asked.

"I killed a man once," she said, not bothering to correct him on the nickname, "it doesn't matter how and why, but I killed him, I shot him strait through the heart. He looked at me when he died—he had a family and I took him away from that. That's when I swore I would never pick up another weapon," she turned around to look at him, "and here I am, in a shooting range at some ungodly hour with you!"

"I'm going to assume there was an insult for me somewhere in there," he said, "but seeing as it is an 'ungodly hour' and you are going back to Atlantis I'm going to ignore it. As to the whole gun part," he stood up, "I hate to tell you this Elizabeth, but I have a bad feeling your going to need to use the gun."

"Why, because I'm going back to Atlantis as a solider?" she asked.

"No," he said, "your transfer had to be approved by Caldwell and he wouldn't have agreed to it if he wanted you to go and get yourself killed," he sighed and rubbed his eyes, "I think you're going to have to negotiate with Earth—or get ready to shoot a whole lot more."


	7. The Funeral Song

She was stupid.

That was the only thought echoing in her mind. The ship was just entering the area outside the city, about to carry her home and all she could think about was how stupid she had been. For a while, she thought it would be alright to go back to Atlantis, hard, but in the end it would work out, but now that she was staring at the towering city, she was not so sure. She breathed in hard and looked at the city, trying to focus on something other than her pounding heartbeat. Before she knew it, there was a flash of light and she was standing in the Gate room.

"Oh my God."

Five years had changed the city relatively little, but to Elizabeth it was almost unrecognizable. She could only stare at the one place that had haunted her dreams for the past five years. The Gate room was polished and bright, but even it bore tell-tale signs of past battles. There were new scratches on the floors and she counted more than a few patches of dark red, though they were faint. Perhaps the most alarming change was the darkness. At the time of her departure Atlantis had been full of white-coated scientists. Now, it was full of men in dark blue BDU's. And lots of weapons that she would prefer never to see—and wished she never had. Elizabeth felt nauseous at the sight of her beloved city turned into a military base.

"Dr. Weir."

Elizabeth turned around to see Lorne, trying and failing to hide the grin on his face. He had a few signs of aging but then again they all did. He walked over to Elizabeth and offered her his hand. She shook it firmly and couldn't stop the smile that tugged at her lips.

"Welcome back, although I did not expect to see you like this," he motioned to her outfit.

"That makes all of us," Caldwell said, "Dr. Weir, I need to talk to you—" he looked at her, "after you go to your rooms and change."

"Yes sir," she said in the military role.

"Don't," he said cutting off her salute, "I didn't approve this so you could go and get yourself blown up," he looked at John, "that's why I keep him around."

"Alright," Elizabeth said hiding a smile at John's exaggerated offended expression. She bent down followed him down the hallway towards her rooms.

A few minuets later, dressed in a t-shirt and pants, Elizabeth stood in front of Caldwell on one of the balconies. She had just gotten over the initial shock of seeing the ships and was currently looking at him for an explanation. He looked from her to the ships and back again. She looked at the ships before turning around him

"Why did you approve my transfer?" she asked finally.

"Sheppard let that 'slip' did he?" Caldwell asked with a shake of his head, "well, at least we can talk openly now. As you may have already guessed, Earth has a very big hand in all of this."

"I know," Elizabeth replied.

"Well here's the thing. Earth's resources are being used up fairly quickly and the population is spreading out very rapidly. The Milky Way Galaxy has only one planet capable of supporting human life. The Pegasus Galaxy has dozens of planets capable of supporting it with the ability to access more worlds if needed."

"That's why Atlantis was militarized?" Elizabeth demanded, "so we could conquer this galaxy?"

"In short, yes," Caldwell said.

"You went along with this!" she questioned, anger creeping into her voice.

"As little as I could," he replied, "my office is bugged but I've been following as few orders as I can, doing just enough to stay in my position. I've sabotaged my own missions! After spending a few months under the control of something I understand how bad it is and I have been doing everything to keep that from happening to this Galaxy. But it's not enough," he sighed, "they're getting impatient and in a few days the Gate is going to open to Earth and transport more advanced weaponry to Atlantis along with a new leader able to 'get the job done'."

"We can't let that happen," Elizabeth replied instantly.

"I know," he said, "which is why I brought you back."

He turned to go.

"I can't fix this Steven," she said quietly, "It's going to have to change, I can't keep this relationship going."

"I don't expect you to," he replied.

**88 **

Teyla drop kicked the marine, slamming him into the ground. He hit the ground and rolled away from her, but she straddled him and pinned his arms with her own.

"I yield," he said, breathing hard.

"Good choice," Teyla said stepping off him and offering her hand.

He accepted the hand and got to his feet with a look of surprise on his face. Teyla bowed to him, ending the sparring session and wiped the back of her forehead with her hand. If she hurried she could get to the Gate room before John and Elizabeth were beamed down. Ducking into her rooms, she managed to wash off quickly and threw on clean garments before hurrying down to the Gate room.

John was standing a few feet away.

"John," she called stepping forward.

"Teyla," John breathed a sigh of relief upon seeing the Athosian woman safe. He closed the distance and hugged her tightly, "I thought you were gone," he said.

"No," she said pulling back with a smile, "I am right where I need to be," she looked at his knee, "how are you?"

"The knee's fine," he said.

"And where is Elizabeth?" she asked with a quirk of her eyebrow.

"She went off with Caldwell," he said shrugging and picking up one rucksack, "so, are your scars cooler than mine?"

"I believe so," Teyla said, "I must go see Elizabeth."

"Hey!" John called. Teyla turned around, "I'm glad you stayed."

Teyla nodded and hurried off to the room. She found Elizabeth staring off into space, her eyes not focused on the ships. Teyla was relieved to see Elizabeth wearing her red shirt and pants, she could hardly imagine the woman in a military uniform carrying a gun. Elizabeth's shoulders were bent, her forearms resting on the railing of the balcony, her head tiled downwards. Sensing this was not the time for a joyful reunion, Teyla walked forward and leaned on the railing next to Elizabeth.

"Are you alright?" she asked after a moment.

"It was Earth," Elizabeth said softly, "the people who attacked yours, they were from Earth," she pressed a hand to her mouth, "they were part of a peaceful organization designed to help Earth—" she laughed bitterly, "that's exactly what they did. Those sons of Bitches, they helped Earth."

"I do not understand," Teyla admitted.

"All this," Elizabeth said, "is not a research expedition, not anymore. This is insurance for us—to keep our species alive because we're multiplying too fast and using up our own resources. So now we need to spread out and we're spreading out to this galaxy."

"You cannot be serious," Teyla said, her hand reflexively going to the small raised scar on her abdomen where the bullet hit.

"I am," Elizabeth said turning around.

"What do we do?" John asked, announcing his presence. Elizabeth turned to see Rodney, Radek, Ronon, Caldwell, Lorne and Carson just behind him, "there has to be something we can do to stop this."

"There is," she said softly meeting their eyes squarely.

**88**

The speakers crackled once before sparking to life with a wine. The message they were to convey could not be heard through the earpieces, it was far too important. The P.A. system was almost five years old and hadn't been used in three. But it worked, that was the only important thing. Sitting in a room, Elizabeth felt very much alone. But that was how she needed to be, strong and alone, the pillar of strength for all of them. Even though Elizabeth could admit she was broken, somewhere deep inside was strength that refused to be beaten. She was using that strength now to do the stupidest, bravest thing she ever had.

Who said John was the only one who got to have a black mark?

_Attention Atlantis personnel, this is Dr. Elizabeth Weir. It's been five years since I stepped foot in Atlantis. The city never left my thoughts, but that's not an excuse. I chose to do something very stupid, I followed Earth's orders. A month before my departure, Earth demanded that I leave and I obeyed. It may be the single biggest regret of my life. But I am not telling those of you this to gain your pity or trust. I do not want the former and I know it will take more time to regain the latter. Unfortunately time is not something we have. _

_As you know, we are many faces, all races and nationalities are represented here, but with one thing in common, we dream of a peaceful galaxy, of exploring new horizons and of making a home for ourselves. There were people left behind, maybe it was a family or a friend, maybe it was your dog but this mission was chosen over them. Because of this, I must ask you to think carefully whether this was the right decision. If there is any doubt in your mind then I beg you to go and pack, you have a home to return to. If, however, there is no doubt in your mind—or you still feel this mission is more important, than I welcome you. _

_The attacks against the Athosians were not the work of a new enemy. They were the work of a frightening familiar one: human greed. The United Earth Forces, a branch of the United Nations, have decided that Earth is not enough. They have decided that the people of Earth are entitled to this galaxy. They seek to conquer it. Much of it already has been and what little is left free is because of Caldwell who disregarded orders because he believed that they were wrong. Now it is time for you to make that choice. _

_Sadly there is no middle ground here, no negotiations—not this time. In three days, when Earth opens the gate to send more advanced weapons and a new leader through, they will not be entering a military establishment still in alliance with them. They will be entering the city of Atlantis. They will not be greeted by soldiers and scientists; they will not be greeted by the people of Earth. No, when the new leader steps into this city, he will be greeted by Atlanteans, independent and whole. _

_We must declare independence from Earth because this will not stop. Earth believes they are entitled to this galaxy with no regard for the simple fact that there are already people here. These people were once our allies and friends. We have done them wrong by alienating them. Fixing this will not be easy, but it is not impossible. We have the brightest minds in two galaxies here, we have the ships and we have the tools. And now, now we have the freedom to use them. _

_I will not lie, for there have been too many lies told already. Dark times lie ahead for us. Earth will not take this lightly and there will be sadness and pain. Friends will leave. But many of our former allies have already questioned our well being after word of the Athosian Megocide reached them. They are willing to try again. There will be sadness and pain, but there will also be joy and peace. Friends may leave but new ones will be made and old ones will return. I promise you that we will triumph. Maybe not in the way we want or expect, but we will. This is not the end, this is the beginning of the adventure. _

_Thank you _

**A N**

**Didn't see that one coming did ya?**

**Okay so next chapter's probably the last**

**No it won't wrap it up:**

**Begining of the Adventure remember?**


	8. Move Along

_I swear_

Ronon Dex stood with his head held high as the Gate spun to life. He wore no visible weapons, except for his blaster which he flatly told them they would have to pry from his cold, dead, fingers if they wanted it. His ordinary garb had been—according to the Athosian he spoke to—burned. Currently he was dressed in navy pants and jacket, emblazed on the shoulder with a Pegasus in flight. Underneath were five seven point stars, the marks of a Satedan warrior, and the words Allied Pegasus Forces.

_To uphold_

Ladon Radim was not really all that big on ceremony—but this occasion called for it. He was dressed in the same garb as Ronon. On either side of him was Sora and Dahlia. He had stepped through the Gate upon hearing of the decision. Like most of the galaxy, he was not going to throw his lot in with Caldwell—or whoever they stuck in charge of Atlantis. He respected Dr. Weir, he was even starting to like her. He had begged Sora to apologize to Teyla and the two women had reached some kind of understanding, he even caught them laughing together the other day. But then again, that was what allies did.

_The Past_

Teyla Emmagan stood nearby Sora, surprised at how comfortable she felt nearby the once hated enemy. She was dressed in similar garb as everyone, except hers bore the marks of an Athosain warrior. Her braid had been cut off too, she wore her hair in a simple pony-tale now. It was a welcome relief, she feared the braid was going to leave a permanent mark on her back. Glancing over she caught Ronon's eye and smiled before turning back to the Gate. She felt his hand brush hers and turned hers around, looping their fingers together.

_It tells us where we came from and who we were and helps us find the strength to go on. _

Steven Caldwell had been many things in his time. Space Pirate was not one of them—neither was mutineer. The second wouldn't happen, he had sent his resignation with one of the men. The first, well the fact that he was holding the keys to the now stolen Daedelus was answer enough to that question. It bothered him a little, leaving behind the planet he knew and loved. But after knowing what it was like to have no control, to be screaming and have no-one hear you, he realized he didn't love the planet so much anymore. This was his home, and even if it took some getting used to, he had no doubt he could learn to love it too.

_The Present_

Going through the Gate never crossed Rodney McKay's mind. No more Power Bars, no more hope of reconciliation, no chance of anything like that—he never thought about it. He was an Atlantean and that was that. Besides, he thought, as he stood nearby in his blue gear, someone had to keep this place running. That and the fact his new family was finally all here. Nope, this was right where Rodney needed to be, Power Bars be damned.

_It tells us who we are and shows us we can find the strength to go on._

Carson Beckett had thought about going through the Gate. Just once. Then someone had been wheeled into his infirmary and he hadn't given it a second thought. He was closest to the door, his entire Medical Team on standby. He glanced at them and they tensed, one even grabbed the paddles. Laura Cadman smacked his hands away and looked back at the Gate.

_The Future_

He hated the waiting more than anything else. John Sheppard was a proudly impatient man. He fiddled with his hands, with the gun stashed under his jacket, with his dog tags until the woman next to him looked over at Laura and repeated the gesture. He wrinkled his nose, as if to tell her he was not a child. She gave him a look that plainly said he was acting like one before turning back to the Gate. He touched her hand, she turned it around. He traced the back of her hand, until he touched the simple band there with one finger. He saw her smiled and felt her hand turned around and grip his tightly, their rings just brushing.

_It tells us who we can be and shows us the strength was there._

Of all the things Elizabeth would do, this was by far the most stupid—and the most wonderful. She was Elizabeth now, not Dr. and not Weir. As odd as it was to say it, she was a ruler. Not figuratively but literally. A few hours ago, she had stood on the balcony and taken her vows. Surrounded by people, she would have felt all alone if someone had not been reciting the words with her. But someone had been. It made sense to her now. She truly had broken the ties to Earth.

_The Ancestors, who we honor, may they guide us when the stars go out and darkness takes us, may they help us find our way when the path is not clear. Hear us._

When the men from Earth stepped into the city, they froze. They were greeted by a group of familiar faces. They had expected anger, resentment and hatred, not the happiness they saw on their faces. They began to feel confident that this would work out, that humanity would triumph as it should. Then they parted and she was revealed to them. There was still hope, maybe they were sending her back. Then they saw the uniforms and the band around her forehead and the beautiful illusion shattered into a million tiny pieces.

_I so swear to uphold the duties of my office, the responsibilities of my title and the people who have been entrusted to me. _

"What is going on?" one demanded stepping forward.

She smiled and walked forward, extending a rolled up piece of paper. He unrolled it and took in the words, his eyes narrowing. Someone handed him the document that had been prepared for this occasion. He passed it forward and she took it, opening it and reading it. When she pulled it down, she met his eyes squarely and he felt cold at the sight of the strange people standing behind her.

So much for easy.

_By the Ancestors I swear._

"You know what this means," he said looking around, "it's not too late. You could come back, we would forgive this—" he motioned to the people, "indiscretion."

"I'm sure you would," she said softly, her voice echoing throughout the hall, "we," she said looking at the people behind her, "are not so forgiving."

"Is that a threat?" he demanded.

"No," she said, her lips curving up, "it's the truth."

"Right," he said, "get the drones, we'll finish this now."

"Stay were you are," she said, her voice no longer gentle or kind.

"Go!" he shouted at the men, "this still falls under SGC jurisdiction—"

"No it does not," she replied walking forward, "now you can go take the declaration, go through the Gate now and tell SGC and the Earth United Forces that this is Atlantis," she added firmly, "and we belong to no-one."

"And who," he demanded, "should I deliver the message from?"

_Until I find the peace in Ascension._

Back on Earth, the Generals looked at the man in shock. He stepped through the Gate with his men still in tact. He walked up to them carefully and extended the declaration with shaking hands. They took it and unrolled it, reading the words carefully. All of them turned a spectacular shade of red, something Lorne made a mental note to report, before looking at the man who should have been leading the city.

"Well! Who's this from!" they roared.

"Their Majesties King John and Queen Elizabeth of Atlantis, leaders of the Allied Pegasus Forces," he muttered, shame faced.

Mentally Lorne cheered.

Back on Atlantis, Elizabeth breathed a sigh of relief as the Gate closed. The sigh was cut off as John grabbed his new wife and pulled her into his arms, kissing her soundly on the lips. The last three days had been a whirlwind of activity and when they asked her to lead she had said yes. When they asked her to be Queen she said no. Then John had come up to her and pulled out an engagement ring. He had tugged her out to the balcony and told her he thought he needed time—needed to erase the hurt. But seeing how things were going, he wasn't sure if he would have the time and if they were going to blow them up when they declared independence than he was going to die knowing that he and Elizabeth had openly been together.

She had said no.

He had managed to change her mind.

Now wrapped against him, she knew she had made the right decision. When they broke apart, she turned to look at their celebrating companions. She smiled at the sight of their joy. She looked up at John. He looked down at her and smiled brightly. She wrapped her arms around him and felt her grin stretch further than she thought possible.

She was where she belonged

She was home.

And that was enough.

**AN**

**No I didn't rush the ending, it's not supposed to end (beginning of the adventure remember?)**

**So who's up for a sequel?**

**I know I am!**

**Wait for it**

**In the mean time review! **

**Give suggestions! **

**See ya soon!  
**

**Oh and P.S., genius "" (dude get a pen-name) gets mad props for asking about the weird chapter titles. Their songs that I was listening to (aka that were stuck in my head) when writing the chapter.**


	9. Sequel Note

Okay so obviously the sequel didn't work out.

Time for Take 2, with John/Liz and al that, it picks up closer to where this left off.

Wait for it, it'll be up soon!

Kamaka


End file.
